Silhouette Of A Saint
by GothamBugle
Summary: Peter chases ghosts in the darkness of his heart, and must help the Titans. Grief-stricken, can he find comfort among fellow outcasts? Little do they know what horrors soon await them... M for violence/lang/etc., also contains BTAS, Deadpool, misc.


Disclaimer: I don't own Spider-Man or Teen Titans, or anything else in this story, which are owned by Marvel and DC, respectively.

(...)

"YOU KILLED THE WOMAN I LOVE!"

[I screamed these words at the top of my lungs.]

[My name is Peter Parker. My life is really complicated, so let me back this up to many months ago.]

[I started out as basically a nobody who by some freak accident turned into an even bigger nobody. I screwed up, and people I cared about suffered for it.]

[First was the closest thing I ever had to a father. He died because I didn't do the right thing.]

[Next was my best friend Harry Osborn. His dad and I discovered that we were both each other's worst enemies, so put two and two together and that doesn't end up quite pretty.]

[Then the most wonderful person in my life paid for it. A blonde angel I thought only existed in dreams. Her dad died when I screwed up, and then, well...]

(...)

A loud *THWIP!* broke into the air. Thick webbing splatched onto a wall and Spider-Man quickly rushed by. He was struggling to go as fast as he could to the Brooklyn Bridge; high atop it he spotted his enemy off in the distance.

Had any enemy vexed him more than the Green Goblin? It was sick enough the man under the mask, Norman Osborn, favored Peter as a surrogate son over Harry. Learning Peter's secret identity posed a constant threat of exposure if a single move was made toward him. Peter returning the favor only made it worse; even if he was a creep, he still felt bad about smacking the hell out of his best friend's dad.

But this time he had gone too far. This time he took the only person who was still Peter's friend, still on his side, who meant anything in his life. Gwen Stacy.

[She didn't do anything to deserve this... This is all my fault...]

It all happened so fast. Goblin had thrown the beautiful, blonde girl off the bridge as if she were nothing. Peter's nerves screamed, ablaze, as he reacted in the first way his instincts could. One strand of web... And it was all over.

When it had snagged her leg and stopped her fall all too suddenly, Peter didn't want to believe he'd heard Gwen's neck snap. He carefully pulled her back up, telling himself she would be okay, to find he was only holding a cold corpse. His heart sank into his gut, and pain flooded his entire mind and body.

Countless nights after he would stay up for hours wondering how he could have done it differently. Would she still be alive if he'd dived after her and webbed the bridge after catching her? Or swinging after her? Anything? It wouldn't change that she was dead, and would never come back.

Sweet Gwen...

Time flew until Peter had finally tracked Goblin down at one of his many safehouses. When they first fought, Peter thought he really was some kind of scary Goblin. He soon realized he just had a really realistic costume. It didn't matter now though. Best friend's dad or not, Goblin was going to suffer.

Peter was blinded with rage. His heart and his head throbbed rapidly as he crashed blow after blow onto Goblin's whole body. The horrendous gashes and bruises dealt by Peter's massive strength tearing Goblin's costume with each strike made his once terrifying look melt into that of a mortally wounded beast.

Copious blood splattered the floor and walls with every punch. Peter wasn't holding back. Goblin couldn't do anything to defend himself. The constant assault of agony jolted through him, feeling his internal organs start to shut down one by one with dull aches.

Peter's arm reached back as far as it could go, ready to thrash. He'd crush the Goblin's skull with this last strike... But then he stopped.

[... What am I doing?... Norman may be evil, but I can't take Harry's dad away, like I lost my Uncle Ben...]

He lowered his arm and hung his head, filled with remorse. He was tired of all the loss and pain; killing Harry's evil dad wasn't going to undo all of that.

Peter couldn't hear the Goblin's faint breathing. Under what remained of his ghoulish mask he smirked, trying to sputter out one last dirty insult, but it came out as a gurgle due to choking on his own blood. Pressing a button on his glove, Goblin's glider rushed at Spider-Man from behind, a long blade ready to pierce his heart.

At the last instant, Peter's spider sense shook him into action, letting him dodge by reflex, a split-second before he would have been killed - only for the glider's blade to instead impale Goblin against the wall. His head reeled back and he released a brief, stifled scream; then quietly sank into a lifeless husk.

Coldness invaded Peter's entire body. Ever since that stupid spider bite, his life had gradually been spiraling further and further downhill. He cursed these stupid powers; wished he'd never walked into that arena that one day...

[I thought killing the Goblin would make me feel better about Gwen. Instead, I feel empty, and even more alone...]

(...)

Peter's eyes opened and he quickly rose in his bed.

[The nightmare.]

He'd been having it every night since Gwen died. He sighed and rolled over, looking at a picture of Gwen on his nightstand.

[My Uncle Ben died because I wasn't Spider-Man. I didn't use my powers to help people; I was selfish. I hadn't realized what it meant when he said "With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility.]

Peter's trembling hand reached out and he slowly wrapped his fingers around the picture, pulling it closer to him.

[But Gwen died because I *was* Spider-Man... Because I *did* use my powers to help people, because I *did* have this secret identity that was already ruining my life, and when Goblin found out...]

He fought back the tears as he gently ran his fingers down Gwen's face.

[Oh, Gwen. I've felt so lonely without you. It follows me everywhere.]

His eyes shut tightly as he clasped Gwen's picture against his chest.

[Lonely at parties with friends. Lonely with family on holidays. In school, in stores, in theaters, in science club, everywhere I go.]

[It hurts more than anything. For nobody to understand me. How I feel. I've never told a soul about my double life, and even when you didn't know, you still got into my heart. You made me feel understood, and that everything was going to be okay. What am I going to do without you?...]


End file.
